You just shaved.
You are wearing a white shirt.
You smell like the sea.
You throw your arm over your eyes and say it can’t happen.
Your brother is asleep on the next room so we are talking low.
Makes your voice sound younger, almost like a child’s.
Shaved like that, in the dim light, you´re almost a kid.
I had forgotten how young we really are.
It caughts me off-guard.
I put my lips on your throath while you speak, just to feel it’s real.
You say impossible.
You say something huge is standing between us.
What would we do? Where would we go?
It’s because we are in Brazil again, i know, the air makes you want to stay.
Rio is too hot, too humid, too salty. Even at night.
So hot it makes you want to escape your skin, your body, your problems, your mind.
You say something. You ask if i was listening. I wasn’t.
“It’s raining, news said there was no chance”.
You say impossible but impossible things happen everyday.
I already did many impossible things for you.
The tunder wakes your brother up and he makes us drink tequila shots.
It’s 2 am. We sit on the balcony.
Everything’s so dark, so quiet; feels like we’re the only ones alive.
You say impossible but it’s been going on for over 3 years.
We fall asleep at some point, on the same couch.
My head on your shoulder, your brother’s on my lap.
When did you became my family?
You say impossible but it’s already happening.
I wake up first, we are so close i can feel you breathing.
Impossible things only take a little more effort, a little more time, a lot of plane tickets.
And two people in love willing to break old rules.